Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers. Copyrights go to Hidekaz Himaruya.
As always, reviews = love. They keep me writing.
Enjoy!~
Jamestown Island, May 1607
Immense, formidable trees formed a border between the dense, forested land of soil and the wild, sandy beach that preceded the fathomless cobalt of the Chesapeake Bay. A barefoot boy that appeared around the age of fourteen stood upon a cool, whitewashed rock that jutted up from the grainy sand underneath, moving long locks of untamed chestnut hair out of his eyes to gaze across the empty expanse of sea. A gust of chilly wind swirled around the boy, garbed only in a pair of pants generously tailored from the hide of a black bear. The Powhatan Indians that served as his only friends had graciously embraced him into their society upon discovering him as an infant lying in a clearing not far from their village, instructing him in their sustaining methods of farming and teaching him all of their ways of self-protection against the sometimes-vicious creatures of the wild throughout his childhood. He had repaid their kindness by helping them in difficult physical tasks that not even their strongest men could complete: he thanked the spirits for the gift of unbelievable strength that they had chosen to bestow upon him.
"Hey! You! By the shore! Heeeeeey!"
A rather high-pitched voice pierced the white noise of the waves crashing placidly against the shore. Curiosity drove the boy to turn in the direction of the unfamiliar voice, sepia eyes bulging: a pale boy that looked to be the same age as him if not older dashed along the shore toward him; he had never in living memory seen hair the exact color of wheat, or eyes that captured the hue of the sky with more accuracy than any of the paintings fashioned by his native kin. The austere boy, clothed completely in snowy-white fabric, trotted to a halt as he came up beside the tanned child. "I've never seen you around before, even though I play on this beach just about every day! Do you have a name?"
Name…? "Um… Chieftain Wahunsenacawh calls me Tsenacommacah, if that counts as a name," the dark-haired boy replied, all but staring at his new acquaintance.
"Ooh, that sounds really cool! I'm America! It's nice to meetcha, Tsenacommacah!" America boisterously seized Tsenacommacah's hand and shook it feverishly, a wide pearly grin breaking across his elated face.
"Thanks, a-and you too," Tsenacommacah shakily replied, obviously caught off guard by the friendly gesture. "So… where are you from? I've never seen anyone like you around here."
America seemed to refuse to let go of his new friend's hand. "I'm from up north a little ways! I decided to explore more of my land so I started walking around a few weeks ago. I found this beach about... ehh, I'd say five days ago... and now, every day I come to visit it! I think something big is about to happen on this beach… I don't know why but that's the feeling I get."
"You mean… something like that?" Tsenacommacah gestured toward the expansive bay, eyes now trained on the vessel that captured his attention during America's spiel.
Whatever it was seemed to part the waves in its wake, flanked on both sides by objects that were identical to it. Three massive pieces of ivory-colored cloth billowed out in a concave fashion, seemingly connected to the floating wooden thing by pillars of shaped wood that would rival the trees behind America and Tsenacommacah. "I knew something was going to happen," Tsenacommacah heard America mutter under his breath as the blonde turned to face the sea and the colossal monstrosities upon it, hand tautening around Tsenacommacah's in a way that conveyed fear. "Hey, Tsenacommacah…?" America spoke up, cerulean gaze shifting to look at his friend from the right-hand corner of his periphery, "I'm a little scared of those things on the ocean… it looks like they're coming this way…"
Tsenacommacah nodded in agreement before a tiny, confident smirk played against his lips. "I think they are… but there isn't anything for you to worry about, America, we'll be fine. Just stick with me, okay? I know this land better than the back of my hand. If we get in trouble or anything we can run to some of the best hiding spots around. We'll be okay."
America simply nodded as he allowed the words of his newfound friend to sink in, the air around them ringing with the alto intonation of Tsenacommacah's voice. Tsenacommacah took a deep breath, enjoying the salinity of the air that filled his lungs, before a flower of doubt blossomed within his mind. Spirits, please, let us be okay. No matter what those big things might be.
"LAND HO!"
A formidable ripple creaked through the intricately-laid polished wood that comprised the hull of the boat which contained approximately three dozen English men, attired specifically for exploring this uncharted land that they had been chartered to colonize. Only one man blatantly stood out from among the rest of the commoners: his choppy hair matched the hue of refined gold, his bangs only somewhat concealing a thick brow and eyes that could have easily been mistaken for cut emeralds. He had been garbed in a cobalt-colored commander's suit consisting of a jacket with coattails, a button-up shirt underneath, pants that matched the jacket and impressive ochre boots. A hat embellished with a wispy white feather of some unknown bird topped his head, resembling in fashion something that a pirate captain would have been honored to wear. "Thanks Ratcliffe, great work!" the man shouted over his shoulder as he held onto the main mast leading up to the crow's nest above the direct center of the boat, patiently waiting for the boat to come to a complete stop and for the deckhands to let down the stepway that would bridge the gap between the almighty ship aptly named the Discovery and the New World.
"You're going to disembark, Sir Great Britain?" Someone yelled from the crow's nest overhead; the blonde man glanced skyward to find something like a handheld telescope bobbing just over the railing of the nest.
"Yes I am," Britain hollered back as something caught his eye - his periphery shifted to the newly-lowered stepway leading a few stories down to the dampened shore of foreign territory.
"I wish ye luck, sir! The rest of our men will dispatch at your call!"
Britain nodded confidently, gulping in a breath of oceanic air as he padded across the deck of the ship and gracefully bounded down the handful of steps, some new spirit infiltrating his being as soon as his boots contacted grainy, oatmeal-hued sand that unfurled before him like a carpet. He gripped the jeweled hilt of the rapier fashioned solely for him that would easily befit one of his homeland's kings as he advanced across the shore and disappeared within the dense forest lying only a few meters past where the sand began. His senses acutely honed into his surroundings: it was as if he could hear every crinkle of dead leaves left over from autumn under the padded feet of diminutive mammals, every little scratch of finite claws against the starchy surface of nuts harvested by squirrels for their growing young... and the distinct sound of two pairs of feet trampling against the slightly moist, fertile soil. Britain halted in his tracks as if we were rooted to the forest floor, ethereal chartreuse testily whisking back and forth in front of him in search of any sign of human life. The sound seemed to quicken, crescendoing in volume until two figures emerged from behind a gargantuan oak tree only a number of feet preceding Britain.
Two pairs of eyes, one as blue as a crystalline lake and the other sun-streaked amber, met Britain's own cool-hued gaze. The two boys seemed to be polar opposites of each other: the taller and who Britain assumed to be older possessed a creamy complexion and goldenrod hair that would rival the finest spun tulle in the imperial country's homeland, while the shorter exhibited a nourished tan with long, burnt umber hair that cascaded to his shoulder blades. It seemed as if a few strands of the older boy's hair attempted to stray upward, though the boy had obviously matted it flush against the rest of his hair. The blonde took a step in front of his company and took a deep breath, apparently gearing himself up for something; Britain's eyes flickered momentarily to their clasped hands as a smirk upturned one side of his mouth. "H-Hi Mister," the adolescent spoke, his voice cracking in some places here and there, revealing every so often the deep register of his timbre which still remained high-pitched in his youth. "We s-saw you walk off of that big thing that floated on the bay. Where'd you come from?"
Britain cleared his throat, removing his right hand from the rapier that he had bound to his waist with a strong leather strap. "I sailed here in my boat from across the water. This little bay here leads out into the Atlantic Ocean, and my home country of Great Britain lies across the ocean."
"Okay, so... where are we then? And um... who exactly are you?" The boy's eyes seemed to quiver with naive fear, though he did not let the emotion show upon his face.
"In Great Britain we call this the New World - I came here with the Virginia Company of London in order to colonize this area all in the name of my country. It seems that there are people already living in this New World, in which case we, the English, will help to civilize them and acquaint them with the ways of the court." The crooked smile that formed upon Britain's face seemed to broaden. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, but I am not just a normal human being: I service my country by personifying it. London, England - my country's capital - functions essentially as the heart of my being. I had been meaning to ask, boy... do you and your friend standing behind you have names?"
The blonde's shoulders in front of him seemed to noticeably relax as he nodded, a sizeable pearly smile appearing across the width of his heart-shaped face as his voice jumped from mezzo-piano to blatant forte, "You're really cool, Mister Britain! My name's America, and the guy behind me's name is Tsenacommacah!"
Ah, I should have expected this. So he is a country like myself... but what about his little friend? Britain took the liberty to march a few feet closer to the two boys, eyes narrowing minimally to further scrutinize the two in front of him. "America, hmm? Well, boy, you're a lot like myself, believe it or not. You also represent your country in the same way that I do, but your country is still developing. And I think that Tsenacommacah there will end up playing a crucial part in the development of your new country... I can be wrong, but I have a feeling about that one." Britain turned his eye over to Tsenacommacah, who seemed to quaver underneath his privileged peridot stare. " Tsenacommacah, does your name have a special meaning of some sort?"
Tsenacommacah nodded, refusing to drop the eye contact that they had forged just a moment ago despite his nonexistent trust of the man. "In the language of the Powhatan tribe, it means 'densely inhabited area.' Does that have special significance or something, Mister Britain?"
Britain nodded, stepping between the two as his hands came down to pat their heads. "It does, lad. It simply means that you are a part of America's country. Your name primarily translates to a section of land... that is one of the distinguishing features between mortal men and those that represent their respective countries. I think that you are going to function as a province or something of the sort for America here - you'll help him make decisions when he needs a guiding hand or a second opinion, besides serve as a very close friend. It seems that you've already fulfilled one of your requirements." He flashed Tsenacommacah a bright smile before backing up the length of one stride. Thank goodness the New World already has a representative... two, even.
"I have a proposition for you boys." A serious tone crept into Britain's accented voice as he eyed the narrow form of first Tsenacommacah and then America, "I have brought one hundred and four men from my homeland of Great Britain with one goal in mind: in the name of my country, I would like to colonize this part of the New World. Essentially, I would establish an English settlement here in order to help your country develop faster than it would without my help, America. I can teach you boys things that you would have never thought of in your dreams if you allow me to stay here for an indefinite amount of time. It is really for your benefit, America. Will you take me up on this offer?"
America hesitated for a moment before taking a step toward Britain, towing Tsenacommacah with him as he moved. He shot a glance back at his friend over his shoulder as if waiting for an answer; Tsenacommacah weighed the options and after a few tense seconds that bordered half a minute he nodded once, an ultimate gesture. America returned his nod before his Atlantic eyes turned back to Britain's own spring green. "Okay, Mister Britain! You can colonize here. So... does that mean we're kinda like family now?"
Britain's head cocked slightly to the left for a moment. "Hmm, I think that would indeed make us something of a family, now wouldn't it? Like siblings, as it were."
Something blossomed inside the cleave of Tsenacommacah's chest, just above the space in which his heart thrummed - whatever it was diffused throughout his veins, warming every inch of his body, piquing the corners of his mouth into a feeble smile. Is this what... family... feels like...?
"From this moment onward, no matter where the future takes us," Britain announced, a commanding note prevalent in his jovial tone, "we will forever remain brothers. Through the good, the bad... the happy and the sad... none of that matters in the end. We are a family, aren't we?"
America tugged on Tsenacommacah's hand before he relinquished his hold, tossing one arm around Britain's midsection and the other around Tsenacommacah. "From this day on!"
Gentle, unassuming tears pricked Tsenacommacah's mocha irises - the land in front of him adopted a watery quality as a grin as summery and bright as an August day emerged from the fragile smile that he had just worn. From this day on... I have a family.
To be continued. *
* If you're trying to pronounce Tsenacommacah, the t is silent. (Sena-cómma-cah)